


some wild in your smile

by notthebigspoon



Series: 37 Stitches [6]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 18:05:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m… I… wow, baby. You look so…”</p><p>    Clayton doesn’t know <i>what</i> Tim looks like, but he knows that he likes it. Tailored pants, waistcoat, striped tie, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone, showing a tempting expanse of skin that makes Clayton’s mouth water. But the best part, oh, the best part is the glasses.</p><p>Title taken from Wild in Your Smile by Dustin Lynch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	some wild in your smile

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon prompt on Tumblr.

“I’m… I… wow, baby. You look so…”

Clayton doesn’t know _what_ Tim looks like, but he knows that he likes it. Tailored pants, waistcoat, striped tie, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone, showing a tempting expanse of skin that makes Clayton’s mouth water. But the best part, oh, the best part is the glasses.

“Cecil Baldwin?” Tim guesses, flashing Clayton a grin. “I thought you’d like this.”

“I wouldn’t make a good Carlos.” Clayton says, dragging his fingertips over TIm’s cheek. “Not caramel enough and I’ve never had magnificent hair.”

“I don’t know, I think your hair is pretty cute.”

Clayton smiles, wraps an arm around his waist and hauls him in close. “So why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

“Can’t I just dress nice for my Cy Young winning boyfriend?” He asks sweetly, eyes full of false innocence. ‘I thought you liked the glasses. Had a certain _fantasy_ about them.”

“Ohmygodyoudidn’t.”

There are a lot of things that Tim don’t know about Tim, like that he always always remembers what you tell him. He’ll bust out with something that you told him a year ago when he was completely shitfaced, remember every little detail. He remembers everything Clayton tells him and, more than that, he gives Clayton things that Clayton wants but is often too shy to ask for.

Case in point - naughty librarian.

He makes Clayton wait… he’s always been a tease in the best kinds of ways. He makes Clayton go wash up and change for dinner, smothering a smile like he always does when Clayton resorts to his standards of jeans and a flannel shirt. There’s just a mournful lament that he’s going to dinner with the Brawny paper towel man before grabbing the keys to Clayton’s truck and throwing them at him.

They go to their favorite steakhouse (well, Clayton’s favorite, Tim seems to tolerate it) and he spends most of the meal shifting in his seat and ogling Tim. It’s as if the older man is going out of his way to make Clayton go crazy in public. Clayton wants nothing more than to lean over the table, grab that tie and kiss Tim until his lips bruise. And Tim _knows_ it, smirking and nibbling on the strawberry that came with his dessert.

Clayton pays (“300 million baby, buy me dinner.) and forces himself to keep his hands by his sides as he follows Tim back outside. The Seattle wind is bitterly cold, blows right through Tim’s thin dress shirt and sets him shivering, wrapping his arms around his own waist. IT never occurs to Clayton to keep a reasonable distance. He steps in close, wraps his arms around Tim and holds him close.

Tim’s body goes rigid and for a moment, Clayton is afraid that he’s made a terrible misstep. Slowly, though, Tim’s body starts to go slack and easy. He leans into Clayton’s chest, rests a head on his shoulder and wraps arms around Clayton’s waist. They miss two whole cycles of crosswalk lights, just hanging onto each other. When Clayton draws back just enough to murmur that they need to be getting home, Tim’s response is to lean up and press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

They walk hand in hand back to the truck, like there’s no one in the world except the two of them. Tim holds his hand across the console of the truck, doesn’t release his grip until they’re parking at Tim’s building. His boyfriend leads the way to the elevator, punches in the code to his floor and leans into Clayton’s chest again, utterly ignoring anyone else who passes into the elevator. There’s no one but the two of them, nothing at all. Clayton’s drunk on it.

Tim’s barely in the door of the apartment, has just toed his shoes off when Clayton grips his hip , cups the back of his head and pulls him into a slow kiss. There’s no tease this time, just Tim whimpering and pressing his body against Clayton’s own. Hours earlier, all Clayton had been able to think about was the naughty librarian thing… and the thought is still there. But mostly he’s thinking about how damn much he loves this beautiful person that is willing to let the public see them loving each other and hang the consequences.

His boyfriend turns away, walks to their bedroom with swaying hips, flashing Clayton a smile over his shoulder. That little… Clayton swallows hard and follows after, pushing his button up off and pulling his t-shirt over his head. When he reaches the bedroom, Tim is sprawled on the bed, barefoot but still fully dressed. The glasses are slipping down the tip of his nose. Clayton groans.

“Perfect.”

“Says the man getting a brand new Cy Young.” Tim says softly, laughing and holding out a hand. “C’mon… always wanted to kiss one of you guys.”

Clayton takes Tim’s hand, uses it to pull himself in and straddle Tim’s lap. He always kind of liked being able to so utterly dwarf the smaller man, to use his weight to hold Tim in place. He does that now, pins him into place, kisses him as he loosens the tie, unbuttons the waistcoat and then the shirt, lets off just enough to help Tim slip out of the loosened clothing.

He falls to the side, lands on the bed and pulls Tim against his chest, lazily working their pants open, wishing that he had the willpower to make Tim wait, the way Tim likes to make him wait. He doesn’t, though. He wants to hold Tim _now_ , touch him _now_ , kiss him _now_ , make love to him _now_ and he does. Fortunately, Tim wants it just as badly, pulling Clayton on top of him with a breathy ‘please’ and a soft moan.

After, just like he always does, Tim snuggles up close, rests his head on Clayton’s chest and wraps an arm around his waist, humming quietly. Clayton sifts a hand through his hair, leans down and kisses the top of his head.

“Think anyone saw us tonight?”

“I don’t know.” Tim says. A pause, and then… “I hope so.”

Clayton smiles. ‘Yeah baby. Me too.”


End file.
